


Late Night Thoughts

by lureendscallin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Insomnia, Nostalgia, Poetry, Prose Poem, Romanticism, Sad Ending, Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 10,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lureendscallin/pseuds/lureendscallin
Summary: My thoughts have fallen in love with the idea of him and so I suffer numerous nights of being awake.





	1. 02:58 am

I wonder how many nights had passed before I decided to write my thoughts down. Even I do not know.

I'm awake, wide awake.

I breathe while I stare at ceiling. My eyes bear life and cannot withstand the darkness that they see when I close them.

I cannot sleep, but I need to.

My mind travels into different worlds. Sometimes, it travels to the world of fantasy, sometimes light, sometimes darkness and sometimes lies.

I am suffocated by my thoughts.

But I bet that you do not know that most of them are about you.


	2. 03:17 am

I remember the time when I visited you at home and you were playing the piano. I clapped my hands because I was amazed, but you stopped playing when you saw me.

I told you to continue and you did so with a genuine smile on your face.

When your mother came inside, you stopped playing once again. I understood why. She was your mother. She had a special place in your heart, I could tell so. You stopped playing just to greet her, look at her and know she's there.

Your mother smiled and your happiness got better. You continued. And I just watched you, savoring each moment as if they were the last. I was glad that I did because that side of you is nowhere to be seen now. Shall I lead you back home?

I adore you a lot, even during that time when we were still young. You were so talented and smart. For such a young age, you already mastered so many things.

I wonder what it'd be like if you weren't like that. Would you have distanced yourself from me?

Hey, what is it like to have you smiling at me like an innocent, cheerful kid? I'll pay you if you want. I just need your lips to form a curve, even if you are forced to do it. I just want to have a glimpse of you smiling, trying to be happy even if you can't.

Where has the young you gone to? Have you gotten lost? Or do you just hate me that's why you pushed me away?

If I were someone resembling your mother, would you push me away?


	3. 10:27 pm

I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to know if I look okay. I grab some makeup and put them on me.

What am I doing with myself?

You see, this morning, I saw a girl look at you and watch you pass by. During lunch, I encountered her and noticed how she looked for you in your classroom, but you weren't there.

The thing is that girl is pretty. She had makeup on, but she is pretty. I don't think that it is a sin to do something just to make yourself feel beautiful.

I also do not think that it is a sin to do something that can make you happy, but do you?

What makes you happy? Tell me, are you happy?

I know you have so many achievements, but do they make you feel so glad about yourself? Proud, maybe. Happy? No.

I don't think you're fine.

I used to think that you wouldn't have any problems in the future because you had so many things that you could do. I used to think that, but I no longer do. Now, I think that it's a curse to be a genius in so many things.

You breathe expectation and exhale victory. The cycle goes on and on.

How much pressure does an expectation have when you breathe? Is it enough to make your lungs collapse?

All I really wanted was to be your oxygen, but I didn't know that the air you breathed wasn't that. You breathed something toxic without knowing it and your dad's behind it.

Look at what happened to you.


	4. 02:14 am

I look at my phone even though I know that no message will come. I let out a heavy sigh, hoping that the burdens may come out with them. Then, I glance at the clock.

A feeling of sadness washes over me.

Are you already asleep around this time or are you still studying just to make your man proud?

I cringe at the thought of your father. He is horrible. How can he turn you into a robot? Does he even feel bad? I guess not.

Akashi, you are such a ruined man. You probably don't know this, but you never really had the childhood that you wanted. Almost all your life, all you ever did was follow your father and you don't seem to know how to complain. You need to. If I were in your shoes, I would be a rebel.

You are his son, not his employee. He should treat you like a normal kid. He should act like a dad and ask you how your day went and all.

You are such a puppet to him. In fact, you are his fancy little puppet and he is going to leave you someday. Who will pick you up by then? Have you ever noticed how ruined you are?

You turned into a man so into winning that you don't have the time to think about yourself anymore. Whenever you win a fight, you lose a part of yourself. After all the glories, has your dad ever congratulated you? Has he ever told you of how proud you make him?

It's such a shame to witness someone change into someone else. You got colder than ice. Oh, it really is such a shame.

Why does he care more about your family name rather than your happiness? Why won't you ask him that? Why are you so obedient to him? You can always say, "No, Father." Why won't you disobey him?

You need a normal life. You needed a normal childhood. But no. Everything about you isn't normal. You go for the extremes. You aim for perfection, for glory.

Tell me, how broken is your smile? How ruined is the man you are?

 


	5. 01:29 am

I saw a picture of us with your mother a while ago when I was rummaging through my old stuff. I looked at her and saw a beautiful and amazing woman who knew how to let a prisoner come out of his cell. No wonder she had your old man around her finger. When she died, I was worried about you so much.

I know how much you love your mother. She is the very woman who knows how to help you breathe when you are suffocated. She is the light in your cave. When your only hope of freedom got taken away, you no longer became yourself. You turned into a robot.

You didn't really cry during her funeral, but you did look sad. After that, your dad became stricter than ever. You let him be. You followed him and got even more skilled. Maybe you did that so you could't feel the sadness too much. You just wanted a distraction. He, as well, wanted a distraction.

You are so cold, Akashi. Why can't you be true to yourself? Don't you know how to cry? How to express your emotions? How to say that you're not fine?

You changed.

You got intimidating. People knuckled under you because of fear. They were just afraid of you, Akashi. Take away their fear and ask them to choose between you and someone else among your group, you'll find the real answer.

You are so lonely. You never really had a friend. I could've been one, but you pushed me away.

You're such a cursed man, and I thought that you were blessed.

 


	6. 10:37 pm

I listen to music. I nod my head as I tap my foot, trying to feel the music and let it seduce me.

You know, when you play the piano, I find myself watching you carefully. I'm a lucky spectator and you are the talented performer, but not every spectator can watch his favorite performer play for tons of times and not every performer continues to do what he does. People change.

I will never ever forget being the girl who walked by Teiko just to see the school and think that you were there. I wanted to study there, but I couldn't. Stupid, huh? At least I'm embarrassed at something I did.

Have you ever felt embarrassed? I don't think so.

Honestly, I can't help but think that you might feel so empty someday. I bet you already do, but you're just ignoring the feeling. You think of it as nothing. You think that it is irrelevant. Let me warn you, though. Emptiness is a black hole inside your heart, but I think that you're used to black holes already since your dad is one.

How is the void inside you?

Years from now, I can imagine you mad and disappointed at yourself. You never lived your life. You have always been chained to your family's curse.

Breathe, Akashi, breathe. You're not breathing. You have batteries and they are nothing but pressure.

I tried to help you. I really did, but you didn't need me. You needed someone else.

I bet that you're just waiting for someone like your mom.

Diamonds are rare, Akashi; however, the rarity of the one you want is too much. It might not even exist. It will only exist if you believe that the diamond you have is the one you want even if it isn't. That's how powerful the mind is. Once you think that you like it, you will either realize that you don't care about it or you want to treasure it.

If I hadn't been born as your cousin, would I have been that girl?

 


	7. 01:34 am

I pull my blanket close to my face with my hands closing on them like I'm a cat holding some cloth.

It is cold here. _But not as cold as your heart._

I pull my blanket again, covering half of my face as I stare at the ceiling with a bit of light trying to reach out to each corner of the room as it gives birth to shadows that hide behind still objects.

I see your face in my mind.

I am thinking of you again. I am feeling for you again.

Have you ever did that for me? No.

You knew of the glances I've been stealing, but you never thought of it as something troublesome; you talked to me normally while I talked to you with galaxies in my eyes, but you never thought of it that way; and you saw me as a girl, but never as a lady.

All of that is because of the fact that I'm your cousin.

If I hadn't confessed, would you still have pushed me away?

 


	8. 12:45 am

It's raining right now and I'm watching the drops slide themselves against my windowpane.

How can the sky cry at this time? It's supposed to die every night just to let the moon and the stars date each other. And after that, it awakens just to get all hot and passionate with the sun while the moon watches them as it leaves.

The sky is a man with broad shoulders embracing and protecting what he wants and loves.

I want you to be my sky and I want to be your sun. I want to have you protect me. I want you to adore me, to appreciate me.

But how? You can't even see me properly. You can't even see yourself properly.

Akashi, you're not Jack who went and climbed up a beanstalk; you're not Peter Pan who had his own group; and you're not Aladdin who had to learn his lesson before realizing that not having fate go as how he pictured it to be is okay.

You are not godlike almighty. You are just intimidating and talented.

I take my phone and dial your number. I wait for you to pick it up. I cancel my call.

I pull the curtains back together again, hiding the dark world from my sight.

I've had enough of dark worlds. I tried traveling in yours so that I could shed some light there, but I ended up being swallowed up by your darkness. Before I even knew it, I had left your world with no more light to share or give. The light I had disappeared and got overpowered by your darkness.

Thank you for ruining, destroying and breaking me. I pity you a lot. I pity my heart.

 


	9. 11:58 pm

A while ago, I told my mom that I couldn't sleep well. She told me to just sleep early. Useful advice, huh? Not.

It's pretty weird to be able to stay awake and have thoughts of and for _someone else_.

I wish you know the feeling about being like this. If you do, oh thank heavens, you know how to feel for anyone. I hope you get to know this kind of thing. I hope you do. I really hope.

This afternoon, before you went to practice with your teammates, I had wanted to talk to you. I wanted to wish you good luck even if your game's still scheduled next week.

I wanted to wish you that because you had wished me good luck when I had cold feet before I performed for my violin recital back then. I was so nervous that I didn't know what to do and I was asking your mom for help. She patted me on the head and told me that I was going to be fine. It calmed me down a bit, but what I heard after that made my breath hitch by the mid section of my throat. I felt like I was suffocating.

Two words. All it took me were two words and those words came out of your mouth.

"Good luck."

I want to talk to you again, Akashi. I want to be friends with you again. I want to hear you play some music again. I want to watch you as you move with perfection.

If I had known that we'd turn out to be this way, I wouldn't have said what I said back then.

I want to be friends with the man whom I saw galaxies in his eyes even if the galaxies that I used to see are now black holes.

Akashi, bring back the life in you, please. Let me help. Take me back. I can't watch you being like that. I can't ignore the stranger in your skin.

Where are you, Akashi?

 


	10. 11:36 pm

I had a date with one guy in my class who dyed his hair red. It might be selfish of me to admit this, but I only went out with him just to imagine myself going out with you. Yes, Akashi, I dated someone just to think that I was dating you. Awful, huh?

I wanted to know what it'd be like to eat a meal with you, to get all romantic, to be so sweet... I wanted to know what it'd be like to have you, but you and him were different from each other.

When he held my hand, I forced myself to believe that I was holding yours. When he looked at me, I tried to convince myself to believe that I was staring into your eyes. When he confessed, I found myself wishing that you were the one doing it, that you were the one saying flattering things to me.

But what can my imagination do, right?

Nothing.

It doesn't close any gap between us. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't edit the past. It doesn't change rejection.

I'm planning on sending this to you someday, hoping that you will take me back. Hi, I love you.

 


	11. 03:15 am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *listen to La Vie en Rose when you see the word "play" with thick font.

 

I am looking at your picture right now. You look so charming and entrancing that I wish I can stare at you for days and days, but if that is possible, I might get used to you and I'm afraid of that.

I'm afraid of change - may it be about my feelings, my thoughts or myself. I hate it with great detestation. I despise it because I'm scared. If I no longer love you, who will? I'm in love with the you as a man, not the you as the guy other females fawn over. You are much more, but they only see your awards and face.

What about me? Have you ever thought of me? I worry about you a lot, but you probably don't give a damn about me.

I think of playing some music on my phone and decide to go on shuffle mode. The song that came is La Vie en Rose. I remember dreaming about being married with that song being sung. I want to be with you, even if I know that I can't.

I **play** the song, put it on repeat and try to feel it.

 

I imagine us sitting together under the shade of a tall tree as the light of the sun tries to reach us, although the tree is protecting us from it. In front of us is a view of a town and it is breathtaking.

I can hear the soft noises the birds make and the inaudible whispers of the wind. I am tickled by my dress.

I look at you and you are staring at the empty sky. I ask you about what you are thinking, and you say that it is nothing. I decide not to force you on telling me about it. I hope that you are okay and fine even if I know that you might not be doing well.

You give me a gentle smile and I smile back at you. You rest your head against my left shoulder and you pull me closer to you.

"Stay still," you whisper.

I am happy and I make myself closer to you. You put your arm around me and close your eyes, relaxing yourself.

"Don't leave me like how she did," you whisper again.

You lift your head just to put a kiss near my eyelids. You rest your head back to my shoulder and I try to cherish the moment. You pull me closer again.

I have fallen asleep. We both have.

The birds sing us love songs and the wind is being the conductor of the orchestra with nature as its men.

It is peaceful.

You wake up and stare at my face, then you have a sad look. Suddenly, you lay me down. You look at my face and watch how I breathe. You smirk. You touch my face as if you are touching an artwork. You hold my hand and squeeze it.

"This peace is for you, not for me," you say in a low voice.

You stand up and leave me. And when I wake up, I find myself alone with roses around me. They are all white except for the red one with the most thorns.

 


	12. 12:36 am

I doodle your name on a sheet of paper I'm willing to throw later, and I revel at what I am doing because I love your name. I want your name to be as grandiose as you are. Absolutely beautiful and magnificent yet pretentious. Yes, Akashi, I believe that you are like that, and it pains me to think of you that way, yet I'm still hopelessly loving you.

For such a perfect man, you are nothing near perfection and I live with amusement as I watch you fool them. I'm your secret spectator. I'm your quiet critic. I'm your admirer in the shadows.

But I'm your cousin.

I wonder about what you think of my name. I wonder if it does something to you just like how your name leaves me with so much feelings. Does it leave you breathless? Does it feel like kissing heaven? Does it make you feel the butterflies in your stomach?

Your name is a drug to me. It doesn't leave me breathless; it suffocates me. It doesn't feel like kissing heaven; it feels like kissing the rain. It doesn't make me feel the butterflies in my stomach; it makes me feel the fluttering wasps inside and they are stinging me.

I love how your name kisses my lips whenever I mention it, but will I ever have a chance on being able to meet the lips of the person whose name is stuck in my head as if it were a song I cannot forget at all?

Never. Never will that even happen.

I finish my work and I stare at it. I feel empty. Does it change anything? No.

I am so pathetic. Why am I staying awake for someone who barely cares? Why am I thinking about a lot of things that are about you? Why am I doing things that only make my feelings stay?

I know that I should abandon my feelings for you, but I always end up doing something that treasures them. I am a dumb girl. A very dumb girl.

I crumple the paper, but I regret it. It kills a part of me. I do not want to crush or ruin you. Even though it's only your name that is on the paper, I can't help but think that it's still you.

I used to call you Seijuro, but things happened. Now, you're Akashi. There's a huge difference. There's now a huge, tall and unbreakable wall between us and you're just building more and more behind each one.

I kiss the paper with your name on it as I tear up. I do not know why. I just feel so much pain. You give me hell just by letting me witness how you live your life.

Why am I in love with a puppet?

Akashi, shall I be the pretty lady in Pinocchio who will turn you into a real boy? It's too sad, though. Nothing about me is pretty when it comes to you.

I take my phone out and try to type a message for you: "Hello. I miss you."

I stare at the message for a few minutes. I realize how stupid it is and delete it. I bury my face in my palms.

I may have crumpled my heart along with the paper. Or even my mind.

 


	13. 12:43 am

The dogs are barking. I cannot sleep. I am irritated and pissed as I stare at the flickering light on the ceiling. My eyebrows are curled like a wave of the ocean trying to go and stay at the surface.

When will the dogs shut up? They've been barking for a few minutes now.

My heart barks the happiness it has whenever I am breathing joy; it growls its anger when I am seduced by ire; and it whimpers its sorrows when I am drenched in the rain of sadness. Yes, it is a dog, but it is not the type to pet and teach stuff with. It is the type that makes _you_ become the one ordered around and taught lessons with. It is the dog making you seem like a dog. That's when the mind comes in. It makes sure that you can still overpower the beast. It makes it clear that you are the one in charge and not the heart. It's all up to you, though. If you try to follow that beast of a heart of yours most of the time, you'll end up lost. Your mind will try to find you to get you back. It cannot do anything if you don't want to return. If it can no longer reach you, that is when you'll know that you've completely lost yourself. It's when you have finally become the animal. Do you even know that I'm in that situation? No, you don't because you're just as lost as I am.

But we don't have the same cause.

I watch the light go on and off and think of it as myself. It is how I lost my light when I entered your dark, cold and lonely world. Even I cannot withstand that place. If I cannot withstand it, what makes me think that I can withstand your heart? Oh, it is the core of your lifeless world.

I take my phone out and browse the net. I search for your accounts and look at your pictures posted by others. How terrifying. All I see is a dead man staring at the camera or being pictured by people.

You are a corpse, my dear.

How shameful of me, though. Why? Because I, myself, am nearly becoming a corpse. I love you so much, but these feelings are close to making me feel numb. I gain nothing but pain. Do I even use my head? No. It's been rotten. You have taken the life out of me.

Correction: you are not a corpse. You are a reaper. A heartless reaper. Even to yourself.

I hope you come to the party our relative is going to be hosting for. I will do my best to look pretty, like a doll in your eyes. I want to be worth it for your gaze. I want you to see and notice me. And I will give you these notes. I want you to know my late night thoughts of you and see what you may react with.

See you soon, beloved.

 


	14. 12:33 am

I look around the place and see blank faces. Nobody has the face of the man I'm searching for. I haven't seen him in this party. Not yet. It's already this late and he's still not here.

I saw his father a while ago and noticed that no Seijuro was with him. The man I got worked up for is not around. He might not have attended the party at all. It's a huge letdown. I feel like my efforts have gone to a waste. I beautified myself and bought a dress that fit perfectly well with my body because I wanted to be stunning. I wanted to enchant him, to entrance him and to leave him breathless. I wanted to give him my notes.

Wait.

I take a look at my purse. I open it and notice that my notes aren't there. I recall being sizzled about our possible encounter that I really gave so much time for making myself look presentable and pretty. I might have forgotten to put them inside.

It's not a problem, I guess. He's not here. There's no one here to give them to. There's no point in bringing them with me.

I find my parents going to where I am. They give me smiles. I wonder why. Then, my father gestures me to come with them outside. I finally get the message - we are going home already.

We approach Uncle Ren, the host, to praise him for the success of the event and to say our goodbyes. He gives us a huge grin and pats my father by the shoulder. They talk for a very short while. Uncle bursts out laughing as he dismisses us. I suppose that my father has told him something of risible humor.

I search the room for the last time. Still, he isn't around.

Walking my way to the huge door, I get past the hands of light that dare to reach the floor. The music of classic is fading along with the hope I had had before I came to this gathering. I am heading back to my cave and it will take me another miracle to go out of it.

As my family and I get closer to the door that will make us leave the place of socialization, I am more and more nervous. When we finally get to be in front of the door, the guards open them for us and behind them is a man of a unique shade of red for a hair and rare heterochromatic pair of eyes.

"Ah, Seijuro, better late than never, eh?" my father greets him cheerfully. He gives my father a sly smile.

"Very late, though," I say as I observe him.

He is wearing an expensive tux that looks quite well on him. His shoes are made of leather and are polished and his tie is as black as the tux his soul probably painted out for him. I can smell the scent his perfume blessed on him. It isn't unpleasant. It is intoxicating.

We are asked to wear a formal attire. Among all of the men, he might be the one who pulls it off well so, so much.

"My apologies," he bows his head even if nobody in my family is the host. He's so polite. He raises his head and fakes a smile.

"And we're off," my mother ruins the silence.

"Do take care."

The young man steps aside just to let us leave. When I walk past him, I take a glance. He waits for us to be done.

I am going home. I am going home just when I finally get to see him. And no, I do not wish to go home now, not when he's finally here, but I have no choice. I have to go.

 


	15. 09:51 pm

The thunder is on a rampage yet there is no rain. The sky is mad and here I am, frightened by the crackling sounds of its loud screams. I am terrified. I can hear it rumbling as I write this. I cannot see its fast pal Lightning because of the thickness of my curtains, but I'm glad that I can't because seeing it will only make me expect of how frightening the next scream is going to be. And I'm afraid. I'm scared that the lights might go off and I'll be stuck with nothing but shadows just like the clouded life in your eyes.

Think about it, you're like the lightning. You're so quiet, yet you're so stunning. After that, the rage appears and shouts. It's the thunder. Lightning is just too bottled up with emotions he can't show to others that he had someone else express it for him - Thunder. I want you as Thunder, not as Lightning.

I have to go and sleep now. I must protect myself from the world and from you. But I wish to see you in my dreams - to touch you, hold you and speak to you. I'll just wait for you.

I'll meet you down the rabbit hole. Let's have some tea together with the mad hatter. Perhaps you can express the same madness.

 


	16. 12:15 am

I flip through channels, hoping to be entertained by silly and ridiculous shows that hypnotize majority of human minds. I am trying to let time pass by, hoping that my fully awake self will slowly go with it. I want to sleep and forget about everything that happened, especially the moments that involved you. No, I lied. I only want to forget you. You give me so much to feel for and so much to think about. I'm suffering. My feelings for you are a disease and there's no doctor. I don't even know if there is a cure. Perhaps these feelings are worse than a disease. These feelings are an example of a great cause of emotional cancer. I had them as tumors and now, they're getting worse, worse than ever. This is a torture and I cannot do anything. I am only witnessing myself struggle to continue living with them even if I know that they are the most suspected cause of my possible death and that death is the permanent feeling of emptiness inside. I do not want that.

You see, this hopelessness I entered by mistake is a venue you made. They're made of invisible walls covered with the paints of shame, desperation, wistfulness and glumness. If I had known that loving you would make me live such nightmares, I would not have loved you. I would have stopped myself before completely thinking that you had the key to my universe and it's one I have been away from for so long. How foolish, huh? I used to have the key and now, I'm searching for it. Why? As a child back then, I can be happy with nothing but things that I do and use. As someone who has grown up and is still growing up, I find reasons to be happy in someone else but myself. I find happiness in someone. I simply cannot create them by myself anymore. It's like that.

I came to save you, but I ended up being in a critical condition. I can no longer want to be with you. The more I am reminded of your existence, the more reason there is for me to feel and yet, I choose to be a martyr. I am dumb, my beloved, dumb.

I want to free you. I want to dive into the ocean and go to the deepest part just to see the real you. I can imagine you unconscious and calm. I can imagine having my fingers against your skin and feeling the coldness you have been around with. And in that time, the water is cold and your heart is not. How lovely it will be, but that cannot happen especially if I lose my breath every time I try to swim. I'm only going to drown. However, if I did reach the bottom, would you still be alive? I live with such a great disadvantage for hope yet I still believe in the great perhaps.

When we met again, I stared into your lifeless eyes. I wanted to convince myself that there's still a little bit of life existing inside them, but all I could see was a reflection of a void. You have really locked away the real you from me and you locked me out of your world. I am nobody, but I am someone you have to pass by because of a bloodline. And with that, I'm damned. We have to see each other and I have to pretend that I'm fine. I have to pretend that I'm not hurt and that you're not killing me just by ignoring my presence.

I am held back by your shadows and I am tamed by your darkness. I want to be free and I want to free you. I want you to be happy and just because of a simple wish like that, my happiness got taken away when I was on a quest to help you find joy and bliss. I suffered because I didn't want you to suffer. I fooled myself into thinking that I could handle anything that might have hurt you, but I ended up hurting myself. I couldn't even help myself, yet I was desperate to help you even if you did not wish for such a thing. That's how precious you are. I don't even know if you're worth everything I have ever endured because I'm starting to think that you only led me to a path of nothingness. I am losing my sanity. I think of you more than I think of myself. Odd, isn't it?

"I still like you," I whisper as I turn off the television and see something very familiar - a black screen that reminded me of you and your lonely world. Vicarious, if I must say. "And your emptiness is haunting me."

 


	17. 12:11 am

There are so many things that I want to write, but all of them are about letting you go. My hands are ready to open themselves, but my heart isn't prepared to set you free yet. My mind is telling me that it is the right thing to do, but the one inside me is clinging to the feeling and saying, "I refuse to lose hold."

Just this evening, I passed by your house. I was walking alone in the dark, trying to have my thoughts altogether as I distracted myself in every step. Lights were turned on and I could see the lights of your room. I could imagine you studying or playing the violin. Oh, I'd love to hear you play some music again. I'd remember memories of the past. The memories would give me pangs of nostalgia.

I shook my head and snapped out of that idea when I realized that I had been staring. How couldn't I if I spent hours of my childhood inside that mansion? And within those hours, I was with you. We would play like normal children and your mother would either join or watch us. I loved to show off back then because I wanted attention. Your mom would tell me that I did great and the likes even if I didn't. She was an expert when it came to cheering me up. She was also an expert when it came to your dad. But you know, even an angel like her can be selfish. Why? Because when she died, she took you away with her.

I saw a few men along the streets, and they got me nervous that I decided to go back immediately because I might get kidnapped or attacked. I lowered my head and walked in a fast pace. I wasn't followed, but at least I got back safely. Once I got back, dad caught me. He reprimanded me for a few minutes before letting me get back to my room.

Now, I'm writing this. I should let you go, but I don't know if I can. I want to forget you. If I can forget parts of history, I should be able to forget you. You're just another regret that I made.

 


	18. 12:33 am

Another note for another late time.

Beloved, this is driving me insane. _You_ are driving me insane. I'm not joking and I'm not telling this in a romantic manner. You see, a while ago when you saw me in school, I was being asked out. At the back of my mind, I was telling myself, " _I'll just turn him down in a kind and polite way_." But then, I saw you. When I did, I didn't know what came to me that I ended up saying yes to the guy. Maybe it's because I want to forget you and let go of my feelings. I don't want this, though. I do not wish to be cruel enough to use others as nothing but a band aid for a wound that something has caused, and dispose of it once I'm finally alright. I'm afraid that I'm just gonna search for you in him.

You're not a ghost, are you? You haunt me a lot, even in my mind. But I'm not frightened. I am not scared. You're the ghost that I want to be haunted by, but please stop haunting me. I want your presence no more. I have to see real things. I do not need anything unreal anymore.

 


	19. 02:44 am

This afternoon in school, we passed by each other twice. The first time was when I was headed to the restroom. The second was when I was being called by the man I answered a "yes" with. Nothing's special about those times except for the last one when I whispered hi and I heard you call me by my name. When you mentioned my name, I felt like galaxies had exploded inside me. However, when I turned to look at you, you said that it was nothing and asked me to carry on.

How cruel it was of you to raise my hopes up back then and there. Once you call me out, say something - anything. I've waited for that to happen, so it should've been worthwhile. But I guess that it's enough for the meantime. It's a blessing to be called by someone like you, my dear.

I wonder, though. What do you feel when I pass by? Do you watch me as I walk and leave? Do you count my steps? Do you stare at my face?

When we pass by each other, my gaze is stolen and my heart is unsettled. Are you the same? No? As expected...

I really want to let go of my feelings, but you keep on showing up every time I'm making some progress or if my will is great enough. Why are you like that? Do you like to hurt me so much?

I play the violin and perform the song we once had a duet with. That song is stuck in my head. I cannot forget it.

I play it and remember you. As we play together, your mother watches us with a smile.

 


	20. 12:33 am

My time with my band aid was nothing but a lie. He is but a rebound. Nothing but a distraction and a concealer. In his laughter, I searched for you. In his smile, I searched for you. In his voice, I searched for you. Everything about him was nothing but something I would investigate with hopes that I could find you. And at the end of the day, all I can say is that I have no findings because I can never find you in someone else. I can never have you as someone else.

This is an endless torture. I _want_ to be done with this already, but I _can't_. I've never been this attached to anyone. I've never been this hurt.

I am crying. Why is that? You're not doing anything, and yet I'm so much in pain. How long do I have to stay still and keep quiet about this? I can't stop my tears. My heart is hurting. I just want to cry and shout and scream. I just want to let everything out and I want you to witness my suffering. You should be responsible for this.

Greater pain hits me when I look at my violin case. We had practiced together back then just beside your grand piano. I remember asking you to teach me a few songs. I remember laughing with you.

If your mom is still here, what will she tell me? Is it me or did she pass a few of her feelings for you to me?

I can still recall the first basketball game you had with others. You were so happy when you made a good shot. You immediately looked at your mother when you scored points for the team. Beside your mother was I. The two of us cheered for you and you were so full of joy. You had a huge smile on your face. What should I do just to have it back on you?

Why are you so hard to forget? Why?

I hear a knock on my door and when I open it, I see our maid. "Sir Seijuro is here," she says.

I cannot move. I become stuck on my place. I get cold and nervous.

Why are you here? And at this time, might I add. What do you want? What do you need?

"He wants to talk to you."

"I'm coming," I put my pen aside and follow her to where the man is.

I see you and you look at me. When you do, I get lost in your eyes - your no longer heterochromatic eyes. I noticed them the other day when you called me by my name, but only now do I have the chance to stare at them. Somehow, the man in front of me right now feels so different.

"Let's see my mother tomorrow."

You give me a smile while I sit here with complete shock and surprise written all over my face. I do not know what to say. Neither do I know what I should speak of.

"Wait, have you been crying?"

"No, I haven't," I lie. You rush to my side and pat my back.

"Your eyes say so," you tell me.

"Why are you here? Your dad will get mad."

"He won't. Now, tell me, did something happen?"

"No, stop. I'm fine." I cheer myself up. You stop patting me and place your hands on top of your knees.

"So, will you go with me?"

"I guess so. I am pretty close to her."

"Thanks."

Why am I pulled back all over again? Is this a trick? What's with the sudden change? Have you forgotten that you got rid of your connection with me? Have you forgotten about my confession?

Perhaps, you've changed.

 


	21. 02:41 am

The clock is ticking and the minutes are passing by. The seconds are in a hurry and another hour is near. I am still awake and sleep has not yet come to me. It is nowhere around to approach me. All I've been doing to kill some time is stare. I stare at nothing in particular, and as I do that, I am thinking about you and me. Only by the strike of 2 am did I take a pen just to write about my thoughts.

I haven't been writing and I've been taking sleeping pills. Tonight, I have no pills to help me sleep. I have run out of them. Now, all that I have is time - time to waste, but time is also something I have to seduce because once I've finally seduced it, I will slowly get tired of it and if that happens, I'll be ready to let go since that's how people deal with feelings. Everyone gets tired of something. We just differ in the span of tolerance.

But you, you never got tired of your mom. You still love her and I can tell so during the visit. The memory of us visiting her is on repeat in my mind.

You were talking to her while looking at her picture. I stood beside you, remembering the times the three of us were together. I could still remember how your eyes would get brighter than ever whenever your mother played with us.

I can still remember the time you played a very difficult piano piece for us. During that time, you were amazing. You never missed a note and you were like a professional. I grabbed my violin and we exchanged smiles. I played with you and your mother was so happy.

I heard you tell her things. I heard you mention your dad. I looked at you and smiled. Turning to me, you waited for me to say something and when I spoke, I tried my best to talk like she was around because I couldn't really imagine myself being heard by her. We were talking to a picture, for the person's already dead. How you talked to her made me think that it was an answering machine for heaven. How I talked to her made it seem like I was afraid despite my good words.

When you accompanied me on going home after that, I was really glad yet still surprised at your sudden change. But I believed it as somewhat better.

The man who had blackholes in his eyes is finally gone and back is the man with galaxies.

 


	22. 12:04 am

"The heart is a lone hunter." - _This line isn't mine. It's from one of Sylvia Plath's poems._

I read it somewhere and it's stuck in my head. There's something about it that caught my attention. "The heart is a lone hunter." I repeat it to myself.

The heart is a lone hunter, yes. It is a hunter hunting for another hunter. It struggles alone. It is lonely. It will sometimes see other hunters and talk to them, but after a while, it will hurt them.

It finds solace and regret in loneliness. It finds happiness in companionship. It finds doom in emptiness and that emptiness is hunger. When it's hungry, it feeds on other hunters. It feeds on what they _have_ , though willing or not.

In their world, nobody dies. They just get numb and there are two types of numbness: short-term and long-term. Long-term numbness is what they fear the most.

The heart is a lone hunter who just hunts and hunts until it finds the hunter it wants to spare from pain. It will feed on what that hunter can _give_ and _not with what he has_. It can sometimes hurt him, but it will still stay by his side. The hunter can hurt it, but his loyalty to it is uncertain.

It fears abandonment. Once it chooses the hunter it wants to protect, it will take time to find a new hunter, but sometimes, Time does a trick on them with the help of a sneaky deity of mischief called Fate.

The greatest prank that Fate and Time can do is to let two hunters stay together for too long. That's the greatest thing to exist in their world - reciprocation of loyalty and service. The heart will serve its fellow hunter and so will the hunter serve it in the same way. They will do that without knowing that Fate and Time are toying with them.

Sometimes, those pranksters don't get used to those whom they trick; sometimes, they do. When they do, the two victims will get wounded and that wound will never heal. It will bleed at first, but the greatest recovery it can have is to stop bleeding and that's it. It will not become a scar, just an open wound that stopped bleeding. Thus, two hunters shall part ways.

My heart is a lone hunter and I'm protecting the hunter who is protecting someone else and that someone else is protecting him back. The hunter is you. How lucky of you to have two people willing to shield you. And how unfortunate of me to have tagged along without anyone to be in my defense. Perhaps I should search for a new hunter to serve now. I'll be the one with an open wound while you'll be the one with no physical evidence of pain at all.

To the one you're protecting, I hope she does well. What's her name again?

Reika.

 


	23. 10:23 pm

Breaking the deafening silence of the night is the growl of my stomach, furious of my ignorance of its need for food. I go to the kitchen and search for what I can eat. There, something catches my gaze inside the refrigerator. There is a bread plate and on that are slices of oranges. I take it with me and close the food storage. After that, I head back to my room. I sit on the chair in front of my study table. I am staring at the blank paper on my desk as I am eating the tangy fruit. 

I try to think. I recall the scene when we talked after visiting your mother's grave. 

You told me about the girl who caught your eye and how willing you were to keep her. I was hurt but happy at the same time. Hurt because I finally have foundations of a reason to let you go and happy because you can _feel_ for someone. I'm proud of you.

The taste of the orange clings on my tongue. It caresses my taste buds and woos them. Just as I continue to think about you, I start to compare my feelings to the taste of the fruit.

I do not know how to describe an orange's taste. It will seem sweet at first yet sour as it lasts. It's both. That's why I can't describe it well. Just like that, my feelings are weak at first, but as time goes on, they get strong until I don't know anymore whether or not they're strong or weak. I want my feelings to fade away. But not all of them. I want a part of me to always be in love with you, but that part must not be enough to turn me into this kind of mess. After all, we're cousins under the family tree of pressure. We can never ever be together, especially since we'll stain our names.

I smile.

"I'm ready to forget you," I tell myself as I take my phone out and call the man I'm in a relationship with. I plan to tell him the truth about not wanting to answer him but ending up doing so just because of seeing you. I want to tell him that I love you, but I also want to tell him that I'm about to let go of you. I want to get to know him and see if it will work out. But I'm not in control of his feelings. My actions depend on his answer. If he gets mad, I will just stop.

"Hello?" he asks on the other line, a note that he picked his phone up.

 

 


	24. 11:27 pm

I find myself wondering and pondering about different things. I just want to get this day over with. I gave the letters to someone else, hoping that my thoughts were worth the sacrifice to be given to another person. It was better for that person to have it instead of _him_. And from now on, I will never address _him_ as _you_ ever again.

 


	25. 12:02 am

It's been a while.

The clock is ticking. It is late. I am writing. The words keep on coming to me. I feel expressive tonight and it's been a while.

It's been a very long while ever since I wrote what I last wrote for him. Ever since I was more than ready to set myself free from my feelings, though not easy.

I miss feeling this pen against my skin around this time. I miss writing my sorrows and his sorrows. I miss what I did when I really loved him a lot. I still love him. But the feelings are getting fainter. What I thought was my sun is actually a simple firefly's glow in my world. All this time, I thought that he was my source of light, but it so happens that it's not true.

He's someone else's. I have to accept that. I have accepted it. I have. A bit. Someone's helping me. _But it still isn't enough._

However, it's not that easy to erase feelings. Especially those that crush your heart the most.

 

 


	26. 10:18 pm

I am on my bed, marrying the stillness of my current world. As I breathe and let the air fill my lungs, I think. I think about all the times I could have done what I didn't do, all the chances I gave up for things that were never worth it and all the empty promises I made. Everyone is unique, but failure and regret are what make us the same.

I purse my lips, letting the silence kiss me, seduce me and make love to my unspoken self. I close my eyes.

My heart is heavy with no burdens around. My heart is heavy because of feelings. I am overwhelmed by them for a moment. All my thoughts were erased and replaced or outspoken by something else. Rather, someone else. And it's him.

I remember his eyes, his tantalizing and beautiful eyes. They were a mystery, a lovely mystery. I was the detective who couldn't solve it. I was the detective who couldn't solve how he stole my heart. I know what I'm feeling. I can still feel. But my heart, you see, is with him.

And this is the miraculous thing: my heart is slowly finding its way back to me.

I don't know how or why. I've always thought that it would stay with him. But no. I guess that it's had enough. Have I had enough of him? I don't know.

I don't want to fall out of love when it comes to him. But I know that I have to. I need to. And one of the saddest things to prove that is my conversation with Dad a while ago.

It was around 8:30 pm when we ate together. He was eating his dinner while I was just eating a snack before going to my room and try my best to fall asleep. We sat right across from each other at the table. And he would look at me. In a fatherly way.

I can recall seeing him smile. He said that I've become beautiful. That I'm getting more and more mature. Then I saw his proud look. A look I'd often search for when I was still young.

Sometimes, it bothers me that when parents are happy for their children, it might be because of thinking that they can be rest assured that their beloved sons or daughters can survive the world without them. That they can let go and fly to heaven without having the need to look back.

Dad continued on eating then, out of the blue, he spoke. "You're gonna be a great woman."

I stopped chewing and properly returned his gaze. I felt embarrassed and flattered at the same time. I didn't know how to react. All I could give him was a blank stare. That's the best answer I could give.

"You're gonna be a great woman," he repeated then shove some food into his mouth. He chewed. Then, he talked again.

"And you're gonna make a great man happy. And he'll be proud of himself for having you and proud of you for who you are."

I didn't like hearing things like those from him. It just sounded so unnecessary for me at the moment. But the words sounded so encouraging yet so sad. And so wrong, too.

I remember thinking that I do not exist as a woman for a man to think of as an award or achievement to brag about. And I do not exist to make someone feel proud of himself. I exist because I am me and because I can think. I can feel.

I also thought of Dad's words as more fitting for Kimika.

Now, here's what I have to confess. It wasn't Akashi who entered my mind. It was someone else. I saw Kimika's brother and remembered his smile. I know that's it's too early to make a conclusion about it, but that's not the point. The point is that when I thought of the present, the man who got first place in my mind was someone other than Akashi. I am not relieved because it was rare and surprising. I've been so used to my feelings for the former to even think that I still have a heart left to be filled with feelings for the latter.

 

 


	27. 12:29 am

I saw him this morning. My eyes got magnetized immediately as I searched for what's missing—his smile. When he grinned at me, I gave him a sly smile and raised my hand as though I was about to wave. Those simple acts of reaction to his warmth were all done with effort but not because of force; it's because of my own will. I wanted to react. I wanted to reciprocate that light.

It was 10:46 pm a while ago and I was ready to sleep. However, I couldn't. I just kept on thinking. I just kept on being awake.

And now, I'm writing. I have nothing else to write about but you. As well as myself.

You are a tragedy. An unexpected tragedy. That smile, that awful yet sweet smile, haunts me. You mean well, but you're causing damages in me. You have no idea. You're just the calamity that's happening and bringing a bout of drastic consequences. However, maybe I do need that experience. Maybe I do need a damage for my already damaged self. I might actually need it for me to be fixed. Sometimes what can hurt me is what can also make me happy after the right amount of time.

And perhaps that's your purpose in my life right now. Yet it might be too soon for me to judge you for that. Also, am I not such a bitch for already assuming what you are to me? I have done nothing but ignore you and take your feelings for granted. I have never actually given you the right chance. I am in no place of being a judge when it comes to how you exist in my life because I have shut you out without letting you enter properly.

I'm thankful for you. So, so much. For still being there despite my rudeness and helplessness.

Thanks for not giving up on me.

But I'm so sorry if I can't seem to make my mind up. It's not because of you. It's because of myself. Loving you will change everything. Honestly, I think that the development's already happening. I am afraid. So, so afraid.

It's not that I do not want to fall for you. It's just that I'm afraid of falling for you and losing myself at the same time. It has happened to me already with Akashi.

I know that I can control myself but this is about my feelings. My feelings are waves. Some are bigger than the other and I can't help but get drowned once they clash with me. I want to be able to stand on my own just like your sister because she has made me realize that this can wait. My feelings can wait. My heart can wait. I can wait.

But I'm not her. I'm not as strong as her.

What I really want to be able to do right now is to protect myself while actually exposing myself to everyone. I want you to know me without being able to hurt me. I want my walls down but still have my guards up. That is how strong I want to be.

That is why I'm afraid of falling. Sometimes, it makes me sacrifice myself.

Also, if I ever happen to fall in love again while losing myself, I'm afraid that I might have actually just searched for a different Akashi in someone else's body. That will be unfair. Because if so, it means that I may be loving you now but my unconsciousness tells me that you are not you—you are just someone who is someone else.

You are the calamity. I am a poor victim.

You happened. You're here but you're only here because you happened. And since you happened, I am searching.

Because...

Trust me, when you asked for a second chance, I didn't agree on that. What I actually agreed upon's giving you a chance. This is your first. And damn it, you already have a hold of my heart. Please make Akashi go away in my beating chambers. He's given me so much pain. I already have so much pain.

I want to get hurt because of myself. I no longer want to get hurt just for the sake of others.

If I ever get hurt, I don't want the reason to be because of me pitying you. I want it to be us having an argument. I want to be involved.

See? You, my blooming feelings for you, are starting something. And although I'm starting to like you, here's a sad fact:

I am a girl who's so afraid of change.

I am falling but I am also resisting. I don't want to change. I'm scared. But at the same time, I want to let myself.

 


	28. 11:08 pm

Lately, I've been thinking about my feelings for Seijuro. I don't love him anymore, but I can't help myself from thinking about how much I loved him back then. It was just too much.

And this will be the last time I will write about it, about him, about the me who was too obsessed with the thought of him because I'm through of it all.

I have realized how unhealthy my love was.

I wrote about him a lot. I wrote in such a way that I ended up writing the beats of my heart on a paper. The letters weren't for words that were about me. They were always for words that were about him. My life had been about him. And that makes me feel like I have died for a long time before being able to live.

I wasn't breathing for myself. I was breathing for him. I was living for him.

And that is not good.

He was all I could think of. My life has adjusted itself for him. It's as though I no longer cared about myself. It's as though my life was for him.

I don't regret loving him, but I regret having the love I had for him. It was just too much. I was too much. He was too much.

They're waves I'm carried away with.

I've been such a fool. I've been too drowned in the illusion that one must abandon oneself when in love. That's wrong.

It's not wrong to leave pieces of yourself for yourself, because if you give too much, you'll lose everything. You'll have nothing left of and for you.

I've loved him too much that I've actually forgotten how to love myself.

And this is the last time I'm writing about my feelings because I'm burying them. I want a love that can make me live, not one that can make me feel less alive.

Goodbye to my late night thoughts about him.

Goodbye to my immature self who didn't know the difference between unconditional love and foolish attachment to that love.

Goodbye to everything I feel about him.

Goodbye to writing about him.

 


End file.
